Frank lost all sense of reality as he fell to the ground, and he landed square on his ass. He shook his head, and blinked his eyes as he struggled to stand up. He was frozen stone cold at what he saw.

He was no longer in his kick ass car. He was standing in what appeared to be, as crazy as it seemed, on the Transporter pad from Star Trek. Frank had watched the show off and on since he was a kid; in fact he had just watched an episode a few nights earlier on Netflix.

Frank realized what was going on, as he stood there; he was dreaming. That had to be it. So, if it was a dream, then why not go with it. But if he was dreaming, was the traffic jam a dream too? He must have dreamed about the morning as well.

With nothing else to do Frank stepped off of the transporter pad. He was really amazed at the detail of the dream. But where was Scotty, or that other guy, who was always running the transporter. It was the guy who got karate chopped by Khan and McCoy practically in back to back episodes. Kyle! That was his name. Where was Kyle?

Frank walked around the controls and stared at them. The control pad was pretty hokey, considering how far technology had come from 1960s depictions of the future. Two words were flashing on the monitor; Emergency Transport.

Frank wondered what that meant.

"Well," Frank said to himself out loud. "Might as well see how detailed this dream can really get."

He walked toward the door and, sure enough, it swished open, sound effect and all. The corridor was as bare as could be. There was no one walking through them. He frowned at that. Usually there were hot chicks walking around in those old style uniforms that showed a lot of legs, and nice cleavage too, on the women. Heck, it was his dream, why not? But there was no such luck.

He wandered down the corridors. Taking a moment, he even stepped into one of the rooms. It was just how the quarters looked on the show, there was even a small plate of yellow cubes. He remembered seeing them on one of the episodes. They were some kind of food, as he recalled. He picked one of them up and nibbled at it. He smiled.

"Mmmmm," he said to himself, "these are good."

He took a sip from the cup of water that was next to the plate of food, and then left the room to continue his exploration of the ship.

Down the corridor he came up to one of the Turbolifts.

"This should be fun." He said with a smile as he stepped inside. He looked around and then he said; "bridge."

Nothing happened. Then he remembered Obrien and Bashir having the same problem on DS9. He had to admit, he was a dork for even remembering that episode. He tried to keep his inner-dork from his family. But he suspected they all knew.

He tried again, but this time he placed his hand on the control device that operated the transporter. And once again he said; "bridge".

Instantly the Turbolift jolted into movement. He turned to watch the light thingy spin as it did on the show.

"This is so damn amazing." He said to himself with a laugh.

Then, it stopped, and the door swooshed open, and there it was in all of its glory; the bridge of the Enterprise! He stepped out of the Turbolift and onto the bridge. Just as with the rest of the ship, no one else was there. He looked at the various stations. There was no Uhura, no Sulu, no Chekov, no Spock; and the chair, no not the chair, THE chair, was empty. There was no Captain Kirk either.

"This is really something." He said to himself, still not believing any of it. "I hope this isn't some residual shit from when I tried LSD."

It was something he did when he was in college, and wasn't proud of it, and never told anyone in his life now; including his wife.

He walked around the rim of the bridge. The view screen showed Earth, in all of its splendid beauty, below. Frank could only stand in awe of the whole situation. It all seemed so real.

Finally, he built up the nerve. He stepped down into the center of the bridge and approached the chair. He even looked to make sure there were no tribbles on the seat. And, like any Trekker, he reveled in the feeling of sitting down in, perhaps, the most famous fictional seat of all time. It was surprisingly comfortable.

"This is heaven." He said out loud. "This is absolutely heaven."

Then he had a thought; what of this wasn't a dream. What if, in fact, he was dead? Could this really be his mind's interpretation of heaven? He stood up at that thought. Even though it was fun to be here, he had to wake up.

"Wake up!" He yelled to himself. "WAKE UP!"

He didn't wake up. He was either so far asleep he couldn't wake up, or he was really dead and all of this was the afterlife. What was going on? Why couldn't he wake up?

General Drake Morton sat in his office and listened to his duty officer. Morton was chewing on a cigar as Major Irv Wilson repeated giving the most incredible report.

Gen Morton looked up at Maj. Wilson with utter disbelief in his expression.

"What the hell did you just say, in English this time!?" Morton demanded.

Wilson cleared his throat. "An unidentified object is in orbit of this planet." Wilson" said, in a matter of fact tone. "And," he added, "It appears to be the USS Enterprise."

Morton slammed his hands down on his desk. "Would you mind telling me what kind drugs you are doing Major Wilson!" Morton demanded. "Do you take me for some kind of fool? If the Navy had some kind of top secret technology that allowed their carriers to fly; I WOULD KNOW ABOUT It: God dammit!"

Morton took a deep drag on his cigar. "Then what the hell are you talking about?" Morton demanded again. "That idiotic Star Wars movie crap?"

"Star Trek." Wilson corrected him.

"What?" Morton screamed back.

"Sir," Wilson said, "Star Trek. You know, Captain Kirk?"

Morton picked up the large dictionary that he kept on his desk, he would randomly turn to a page, find a word he didn't know, and read it out loud fifty times, and threw the book against his wall.

Gen. Morton pointed at the Major. "Is this some kind of joke? It's my birthday next week, and you're trying to make me look like fool, aren't you? I have told you before, Colonial, I don't care for surprise parties and or screwing around on the job!"

Maj. Wilson shook his head. "No sir." Wilson said softly. "Come see for yourself. We have it on one of the satellites."

Gen. Morton followed Maj. Wilson into the main command center. Wilson pointed at the middle screen. A small white blip could be seen.

"What the hell is that?" Morton asked. "Hell; that could be one of our own satellites."

"Magnify image Lt. Jackson." Wilson said to one of the men who sat at one of the control stations.

The image magnified to show the pristine image of the USS Enterprise.

"Isn't it cool sir?" Lt. Jackson asked.

Morton didn't share Jackson's enthusiasm.

"No, it isn't." Gen. Morton replied. "Obviously someone, somewhere, has hacked up the feeds and we are being toyed with. Instead of being stupid," Morton said to Wilson, "perhaps you should all be trying to find out who the hell is accessing my post?"

Wilson interjected. "Yes sir," he said to Morton, "but we have already tripled checked our systems and feeds. And according to the tactical radar, there is something there in that exact position."

Morton turned to face his Major, his cigar only inches from the other man's face. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?" Morton demanded.

Maj. Wilson nodded his head. "Yes I do sir", he smiled and then said, "The Federation starship Enterprise is orbiting Earth."

Morton turned back to face the image of the legendary fictional spaceship. He then made a stunning announcement. "Maj. Wilson, please take us to Defcon-3."

Wilson was as shocked as the men around him. "Sir," Wilson said to the General, "if we go to the Defcon-4, then the Russians and Chinese will notice our increased readiness level as well."

Gen. Morton nodded in agreement. "I know that mister." Morton said. "But if we can see this thing, then so can they. Just follow your orders Maj. Wilson."

Morton turned, went back into his office, and slammed the door; there were calls to make.

He picked up the dictionary from the floor, and threw it again; but this time it rebounded off the all, and onto his desk, where it knocked over his cup of coffee.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.